


A Study In Red

by StaticLantern



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-31
Updated: 2014-01-31
Packaged: 2018-01-10 16:44:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1162099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StaticLantern/pseuds/StaticLantern
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frosthawk AU in which Clint is an ex-cop moved to the bad part of New York and [Lady] Loki is his neighbor, who he's certain is involved in something, but he can't quite figure out what.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Study In Red

**Author's Note:**

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> 
> Http://birdwithakeyboard.tumblr.com/

It’d been four months since being kicked off the force, and Clint Barton was struggling to make ends meet. He’d seen it coming for a while, but now it was unavoidable. He would have to move. The apartment he currently resided in was too expensive, and to be honest, a little bigger than he needed. There was no where nice that he could move to, not on the shit unemployment ‘benefits’ he was getting. He had no other choice than to move to the other side of town. Fucking great.  
The entire afternoon was taken up by packing the few things he hadn’t sold for food money. The sky had long since gone dark, and Clint was weak with exhaustion and pain. He was getting too old for this bullshit. But it was done. The lease was broken, his shit was packed. It was done. All that was left to do was move the rest of these boxes to his car and drive the distance across town to his new apartment.

A brisk chill had set in on the foggy street, giving the already shitty looking neighborhood and even more eery appeal to it. The wind ushered plastic bags and food wrappers along the road, catching on Loki’s legs, fluttering a bit, and then moving on. She paused at the street corner and brought a cigarette to her lips, lighting the end and drawing in a long breath. The smoke lingered around her lips, dragging up and framing her face.  
Strangers lingered around her, exchanging a few words with her before disappearing, all wearing looks of paranoia and worry. Amateurs, she thought, all of them. How hard was it really? Just to look casual. If you don’t look like you’re doing anything wrong, people won’t give you a second glance. She’d had this technique mastered for a handful of years now. It was easy, but it wracked her nerves to have to deal with petty druggies and thieves. They threw her off with their buggy, darting eyes and sweaty, pale skin. They were begging to be caught.

It was dark, sketchy, the streets were crawling with the most disgusting kind of people. Clint felt guilty just by being here. This was no way to live, he thought, pulling into the parking garage. The door lifted jerkily, letting out a loud screeching sound. Great, just alert every thief and murderer of my presence, seems like a fitting first impression.  
Just as the thoughts were crossing the man’s mind, a figure darted under the door into the building. He saw her for only a moment, but she was beautiful. Long, wavy black hair, porcelain, white skin, high cheekbones, legs that went on forever. She almost reminded Clint of Natasha, a woman on his old police force before he was ‘let go’.

Lucky break, someone was already going into her apartment building. Made it easier for her to get in, the front door was a bitch and a half. Darting under the creaky, metal door, Loki disappeared into the dark parking garage, walking quickly across the concrete floor over to the door, jerking it open and ducking into the apartment complex. The entire time, she could feel eyes on her, but it wasn’t uncommon, she was used to it, and well prepared for if the eyes’ owners thought to do anything more than look.  
The feeling continued as she made her way to her apartment. Someone was following, she was certain of it. When she reached the door to her apartment, she whipped around suddenly, facing her stalker. The man standing behind her paused, staring at her. He shuffled around a bit, bringing a hand up in greeting before stepping around her and opening the door across from hers.  
“I-uh, guess we’re neighbors now then. Hi, I’m Clint,” He introduced himself, reaching a hand out to shake hers.  
She looked at it with contempt, several seconds passing by before finally reaching out and limply touching her hand to his, obvious that she really couldn’t care less about this man. Clint gave a smile anyways and turned to go inside. Once the door shut behind him, the smile faded into an irritable glare, his gaze scanning the new apartment. What a complete and utter piece of shit. It was a third the size of his old apartment, the walls were stained, and there was an odd odour drifting about the air.

Days pass, months pass, and Clint is working a shitty job at a shitty fast food restaurant. How did he sink so low? How did he go from being a member of a highly renowned police force to dipping potato wedges in hot oil? Every night, Clint went home, covered in grease, smelling like burger ass, and tired as fuck. His back ached, his knees hurt, his eyes felt dry. The only thing bringing him to get out bed every morning was the few minutes before and after work that he got to see his neighbor across the hall, who he’d found out her name was Loki.  
She never showed interest, but that was fine. He wasn’t really interested anyways, all she was was a pretty face, it was just the fact that… there was something about her, and Clint felt inclined to figure out what. She was up to something. She wore too nice of clothes to be living in such a shitty apartment. She was too beautiful and classy and confident to be living in the bad end of New York. She had nice things in her apartment, she wore expensive jewelry, she had good teeth and hair, how was she able to live like that but still be where she was? There was something not right about it.  
Clint spent his free time investigating her. He spoke to Loki frequently, noting little things she said or did that seemed important. And he ran background checks on her. He had access to police files, he dug through them meticulously. There wasn’t a damn thing on her, anywhere, it was like she didn’t exist. It was just fucking weird was what it was, and it bugged Clint more than anything.

Loki’s new neighbor bugged her. He was a cop, she knew that. And he was fucking nosy as hell. It bugged her. He talked to her constantly, and it bugged her. He was a thorn in her side, and she hadn’t quite figured out the correct angle to get it out yet. For now, she put up with him. For now, she answered his questions, acted pleasant, let him borrow bread and beer and once or twice brought him dinner (as he did the same for her). It bugged her.  
It wasn’t until two months into knowing him that she finally decided how to handle him. He was interested in her. Not just in a cop sort of way either. Loki was well aware of his attraction towards her, though he hid it well. He would be easy to deal with so long as she could make him forget his distrust of her long enough. 

One evening, perhaps an hour after Clint had gotten home from work, he heard a knock at the door. Opening it, there was no one, but instead, there had been a note taped to the door, letting him know to be dressed and ready for a date with Loki in half an hour. It was sudden and incredibly suspicious, but there was no reason not to go. This way, he could spend more one-on-one time investigating her, and, well, frankly, he didn’t mind getting to look at her. So, in half an hour, he was dressed, his hair combed, his teeth brushed, and now he waited. Ten minutes passed, half an hour passed, an hour passed. Then a knock came at the door.  
“What happened to half an hour?” Clint asked, pulling the door from the frame.  
“I like to be fashionably late.” Loki replied, wearing the same mildly-uninterested-but-attempting-to-look-pleasant expression.  
“Well you’re dipping out of fashionable and into inconsiderate.” Clint replied, stepping into the hall and locking his apartment door behind him.  
“Mm, so cross,” Loki said airily, wrapping her arm around Clint’s, “Make it up to me. Take me somewhere nice.”

Loki was unbelievably difficult. For hours, they drove around, Clint offering different places for their ‘date’, and her feigning interest but in the end always wanting to leave after only a few minutes. Finally, Clint pulled over and demanded to know where she wanted to go.  
“Finally, I thought you were going to waste the entire night,” Loki said, grinning and sitting up, “Take Dyer up to Requius and keep east, I wanna show you something.”  
Clint followed her directions, driving them out into the open road of a highway. An hour down the road, she tells him to turnoff the road into the field. They keep driving for another twenty minutes before she tells him to stop. It was almost morning, the sky beginning to turn a soft grey colour.  
“This is the perfect spot for watch the sunrise, there are no buildings or trees to obscure the view,” Loki replied, a sort of passion edging her voice and her eyes shone, even in the dark.

Silence set in between the two, Loki resting against Clint’s arm. Her closeness made Clint almost believe she didn’t have ulterior motives for taking him here. Almost. But that all washed away when, just as the sun was beginning to peek above the horizon, Loki sat up, taking Clint’s face in her hands. She leaned in and pressed her lips against Clint’s. They were soft and warm, experienced against his, which had done hardly any kissing themselves. She knew what she was doing, and the thought brought back all of his paranoia about her.  
He tried to resist against her, but she silenced him immediately and dragged him back to the back seat of the car. Her hands glided easily across his skin, quickly pulling his shirt up over his head. As soon as the article of clothing had been discarded, Loki fell against Clint, fitting perfectly against his chest. She continued to kiss him, her hands tangling in his hair, her lips trailing from his lips to his jawline, to his neck and to his chest. Every movement she made sent goosebumps across Clint’s skin, and shudders down his spine.  
It wasn’t long before the rest of their clothing had been tossed carelessly to the floor of the car, their bare bodies fitted together in the awkward space. The windows fogged as the inside of the car heated up, opposing the chilly dawn air that hung just outside. Their eyes slid shut, Loki’s forehead pressed against Clint’s chest as she let out tiny moans and gasps, her hands gripping his back tightly, leaving marks in his skin.  
And then it was growing dark again. Clint’s eyes grew heavy, refusing to stay open. His breathing increased, feeling as though he wasn’t getting any air. His body felt as though it was full of lead.  
“The fuck did you do to me…?” He mumbled, his words slow and slurred, before ultimately passing out, smacking his head on the window as he went down.

 

When Clint finally came to, it was dark. Three slivers of light floated just in front of his eyes, blinding him when he attempted to look around. Once his eyes adjusted to the lighting, he was able to observe his situation. He was naked, save for his boxers, his hands were tied, he felt hot metal pressing against his arms, and he was still standing upright. Banging around a bit, he thought perhaps he was in a locker? Yes, he was. He was quickly able to kick the door down, breaking it off the rusty hinges and falling out onto the ground.  
He was in the middle of a field, probably the same field he and Loki had been at the night before. His head was pounding. It was hot. He felt heavy. When did Loki even drug him? A question for later. What he needed to be focusing on was getting back to town.  
An hour of walking barefooted up the highway later, he managed to hitch a ride. The man made idle conversation with Clint, but mostly just cast sideward glances at his ‘awkward’ attire and occasionally made jokes about it.

It was about four o’clock when Clint was finally dropped off outside his apartment building. By this point, he couldn’t be bothered to care about what he was wearing and walked confidently down the street to the front door. Strangers gave him disgusted, confused looks, but he was on a mission. Get to his apartment, get dressed, grab his gun, and that was exactly what he did.  
He was out for blood, that was, until he exited his apartment only to notice that Loki’s apartment door was ajar, ever so slightly. He nudged it open the rest of the way with his foot and immediately knew something was wrong. He cocked his gun and slowly stepped into the apartment. Everything looked fine, not a single thing out of place. But something was wrong.  
It wasn’t until he found his way to Loki’s bedroom that Clint smelled the blood. Loki was laid out on her bed, almost as though she were asleep. She looked comfortable, peaceful, her eyes closed, her face at ease. But the blood, oh the blood. There was so much of it. She’d been completely drained, the entire bed soaked with it. It streaked the floors and splattered the walls. But there wasn’t a single thing out of place, not even Loki herself.

Clint sighed, sitting down at the foot of her bed, staring at her blankly. There was a note stitched into the back of her hand, which Clint cut the single thread to and brought it to his face to read. It only read one thing. It was a name. The name to a particular crime group who’s case had gotten Clint fired in the first place. He was too close to it, Officer Fury had told him. He was getting too violent, to personal. This group had murdered his wife and brother in his early adult years, and now they’d murdered Loki, who he could only assume worked for them. They must have thought she and Clint were getting involved and they couldn’t have an employee becoming emotionally involved in someone like him.  
It wasn’t much longer that Clint had to wait. The police showed up and arrested him immediately, bringing him in for questioning in the murder of Loki, no last name, no social security number, no recorded birth certificate, no police record, no school files. She didn’t exist, he hardly had a need to defend himself.

**Author's Note:**

> Came up with this idea about two days ago, been working on it since. I had to finish it before going to bed though omg it's 3:44 in the morning kill me yOU GUYS BETTER ENJOY IT.
> 
> \---------
> 
> Follow me on Tumblr!
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